Unlawful Love
by xIcyChanx
Summary: "You're being too hard on yourself." But he should be hard on himself, Roy thought. Because right now, while he should be mourning his best friend's death he was here with her and enjoying every second of it. He shouldn't be feeling what he was right now; he should be feeling guilt and regret, not blatant desire for her. [Roy/Fem!Ed]


_A/N This is set a few days after Hughes' death, and it doesn't follow the manga exactly, since I made up the season and time in general, but I hope you don't mind. It's Fem!Ed after all, and I absolutely love this pairing so... :) This is just another plot bunny that entered my mind unbidden and I couldn't ignore the poor thing so I let it take over. This is the result. _

_I hope you don't find any typos/mistakes, since I looked it over quite a few times, but I might've missed one or two. In that case, you have my apologies. :)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own FMA._

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><p><em><span>Unlawful Love<span>_

The wind picked up and ruffled Roy's hair as he lay comfortably on the grass. Sunrays peeked from the cracks between the leaves on the large tree and illuminated parts of his profile, but Roy paid them no heed. His eyes closed, he breathed out a sigh, and it felt like the millionth one he had let out in just a few hours. The grass whispered around him in the breeze, and the cool air caressed his face, making him feel more at ease that he had in the past week.

The park, with children and families bustling about, was the ideal place to let his thoughts wander, and he set them free, hoping to unravel some of the confusion and hurt that had nestled deep in his chest.

A mere week ago, his best friend, Maes, had had the unfortunate experience of meeting his death, and Roy could honestly confess that he hadn't felt so lost and hurt ever since Ishbal. The ache in his chest was constant, a cruel reminder of that loss and sorrow that seemed to haunt him day and night, leaving him unable to take his mind off it for a second.

Coming to work had become a mundane chore, and he had to maintain all his scant energy until the end of the day or he'd burn out and simply be unable to continue. His subordinates understood and didn't comment on his mood, but that didn't mean that the higher ups were as compassionate. To them, Maes Hughes had been nothing but a soldier who had died on duty, but to Roy it was so much more. His best friend had been murdered while trying to contact him, and he knew the guilt that clenched mercilessly in his chest would never disappear completely.

Despite the brutal ache that still consciously lingered, Roy was aware of his responsibilities both to the military and his subordinates, so every day he forced himself to work, however painful a task that came to be. He still needed to make it to the top, to prevent these coldblooded murders from continuing and instead shape the military into what it's supposed to be, and for that he needed to be the epitome of a capable soldier always alert and moving.

Yet there were these moments where he just needed to get away, to break out of the office and search for a more serene place to lounge. Ever since the day Maes died, this tree had been his sanctuary. It provided shade during the hot summer days and it was relatively isolated from the blissfully ignorant children, playing and laughing without a care in the world. The noise didn't particularly bother him, since it wasn't obnoxiously loud, and instead he found it rather comforting.

His blue military jacket lay next to him and the first two buttons of his white button up shirt were undone. His hands supported his head like a pillow and to anyone passing he would've looked perfectly at ease. No-one would even suspect that this person lying on the grass could harbour such feelings of intense loss and angry hurt. That was why he had never really been able to connect closely with a mere civilian. People who hadn't lived the horrors he had, who didn't know what it was like to lose a friend to cruel murder, just wouldn't understand him.

Ever since he joined the military everyone he came relatively close to friendship with was a soldier, and after Ishbal closeness with civilians was bordering impossible. They were just too innocent. Maes had been the first person to break through Roy's stubborn personality and bleak façades enough to see the person within, and Roy knew replacing such a person was unthinkable.

His thoughts drifted closer to the present, and the recent confusing events that had been occurring, the ones that he had shoved to the back of his mind for later, resurfaced, making an inconspicuous frown mar the calm features of his face.

A mere two days after the murder, things had started to change. The difference was so subtle he was positive his crew hadn't noticed, and the suspicion that only he was supposed to became stronger every time he cast his mind back to it. It was nothing serious, and therefore shouldn't cause such a warm feeling of appreciation to bloom in his chest. But it did.

A hot cup of coffee perched innocently on his desk in the morning – with just the right amount of cream, exactly like he liked it was where things had begun. The first time he had been sure it was Hawkeye who had been so thoughtful, but when he had tried to thank her she had been puzzled. Upon further questioning, he came to the conclusion that no-one in the office had been the one to rest the steaming coffee on his desk. The questions raced one after the other immediately, his mind going over faces and names but came up empty handed.

He had eventually pushed the issue to the darkest confines of his mind until the ideal moment – which was now. Lying here in the shade had helped Roy tons, and from the faint smiles he received from his subordinates, he bet the change was evident. He was by no means feeling like he had before Maes passed, but after some fresh air and lunch, he returned to the office feeling rejuvenated and ready to take on paperwork.

The giddy part of him being conscious of the fact that he might receive some kind of surprise from the mysterious person in the near future also gave him that little push he needed to actually look forward to the rest of the day. It was how he lived lately.

Heaving a small sigh, Roy opened his eyes a fraction, wincing when the sun peeked from between two leaves and hit his right eye. He rolled over and grabbed feebly at his coat before sitting up. His back protested and his grimaced as he got to his feet, rubbing at his neck. His stomach was growling faintly now, so he guessed it was a perfect time to grab some lunch.

Military cafeteria was avoided at all costs for many reasons, two of them being the awful food and the presence of too many familiar people, and instead Roy had found the perfect place at a small cafe close to the park, where he had been going everyday for years now.

Stretching with a small grunt of discomfort, he brushed himself off and put on his jacket, before running a hand through his hair to flatten any stray locks. Onyx eyes swept over the scenery for a moment, before he ushered his feet to take him to the building.

As he walked, he wondered just how much worse today would become.

Roy knew from the moment he woke up that today would be a bad day. He had felt it in his bones as his muscles hurt for unknown reasons and his body felt too reluctant to get out of bed. After that things had plunged downwards. He had burnt his breakfast, which wasn't all that unusual but it had always been at least edible, then he had twisted his ankle when he nearly fell down the stairs which resulted in a persistent throbbing up till now and he had somehow managed to come to the office late, where he received a displeased frown from Hawkeye and the normally delicious coffee being cold and bitter.

He didn't feel like doing anything, and stayed away from any kind of conversations he could avoid engaging in. The others had noticed his foul mood, but did nothing more than cast him a worried glance and return to their work. He wasn't sure if he was grateful or disappointed at their unwillingness to interfere. On the one hand, he was sure that were they to try to get him to talk he would brush their concerns off with a dismissal wave and get them to mind their own business, but on the other hand he would've felt touched by their worry. In the end he decided that it didn't matter; he wouldn't dwell on something he could do nothing to change.

The cafeteria was right in front of him now and Roy entered without a second thought, his nostrils being assaulted by a plethora of scents instantly. The smell and familiar warmth was comforting, and the chatter made him feel out of the spotlight and allowed him to relax.

He seated himself in his usual seat at the far end corner and immediately the waitress came to greet him.

"Ah! Hello, Mr. Mustang!" the brunette chirped, hurrying over to his table. Her hands wiped furiously at her apron before she offered him a smile.

Roy plastered a smile on his face, feeling the ends sag at the attempt. He nodded in greeting. "Cassandra."

The young woman looked to be between sixteen and eighteen, a person just starting to form their life and completely ignorant to the harshness of the real world. Roy envied such people sometimes.

"I would like the usual, please," he ordered politely, managing to muster a more conceivable smile this time. The brunette offered him a confused frown for a moment, before her features altered to something almost mischievous as a sudden realisation hit.

"Your order's made and paid for already," the girl informed him with a bright grin. Upon seeing Roy's baffled look, her smile seemed to grow. "It seems like you have some secret admirer!"

Roy took a few seconds to consider her words. It seemed like someone had took time out of their schedule to order him lunch and _pay_ for it, but he couldn't for the life of him put a name and a face to match the action. The familiarity of his confusion made him recall the first time he had found the steaming coffee on his desk, with no name or any other indication to know who was behind it.

A genuine smile lit his face unbidden, and he looked back at the girl. "I'll take it then."

The brunette's face brightened and she nodded, before hastily marching away, her high-heels making loud clanking noises on the linoleum floor.

Resting his elbow on the table, he let his head rest on his palm as he gazed at the world outside of the window. The sun shined brightly in the sky as it did on a usual summer day and civilians were bustling with life, feet moving on the pavements as they hurried to finish their errands while carefree children took the time to devour an ice cream before continuing with their game.

Everyone was together yet Roy felt oddly alone. Maes' voice rang in his head constantly – teasing comments and old jokes, words of advice and compassionate reassurances – yet contrary to the effect they usually had, they only seemed to intensify the ache in his chest, making his insides twist and squeeze painfully until he couldn't breathe.

His hand clenched into a fist just as the clicking returned and Roy turned his head to see the smiling brunette hurrying towards him, carrying a tray.

His eyes widened when it was set in front of him; a large plate with three sandwiches rested in the middle, a smaller one with several many-shaped biscuits on the right and a large glass of orange juice on the left. He couldn't possibly eat all that.

"They left a note for you as well."

The female voice snapped him out of his stunned reverie and he gazed up at the outstretched hand of the girl. Between her fingers was a crumbled note and he took it slowly, ignoring the sudden increase in his heartbeat.

"Enjoy!" the brunette sang and left to greet the couple who had just entered, leaving Roy to his thoughts and the note.

Whoever had been doing all this – making his life that bit easier and exciting – had left him a note; the only way to communicate with him. He had no idea whatsoever who could possibly be the mastermind behind all this, unless one of his subordinates had decided to keep it a secret. Doubt settled in his chest and he bit his lip, turning the paper around in his hand.

In spite of himself, enthusiasm planted itself firmly in his gut and he found himself smiling at the unusualness of it all. Hastily, he unfolded the note and stared.

_Have you noticed how thin you've gotten? Eat all of it. _

Roy blinked. Thin? He hadn't even realised he had lost weight. He had been under the impression his eating habits had been healthy – unchanged even by Maes' unexpected death. Bits and pieces of memory resurfaced in his mind and he realised, belatedly, the falseness of that belief. During the first days after Maes' death, he had been running on nothing but coffee – it had only been a few days later that he started getting food in his system again, and that had been an insufficient sandwich during lunch. He, himself, had been oblivious to the changes of his body but it seemed that the ones around him were all too aware. Or was it only this person?

Roy looked for clues in the writing. It seemed to have been written by that person so if he had come to contact with them long enough for them to notice his weight loss then he must be able to discern the handwriting, right?

After a few seconds of worrying his bottom lip and rereading the note several times, Roy inferred that the messy scrawl in which it was written was painfully familiar yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Looking back at the tray, his stomach growled and he decided to leave the figuring out for later. First, he had to eat. If he was indeed losing weight then he had to make a conscious effort to regain it. He didn't want anyone worrying themselves over him; he could take care of himself. He just needed to prove it to them again.

Roy bit into the first sandwich, lifting his eyebrows in surprise when he realised it had been ordered exactly like he liked it. As he ate, his mind whirled over the possibilities. It was clearly someone he knew well - how else was that person supposed to know how he liked every little detail down to how much cream to put in his coffee? And it was definitely a soldier or at least someone who had access to Headquarters, or leaving him coffee on his desk would have been impossible. His heart thudded in his chest with the desire to find and thank the mysterious person while he dug deeper and deeper into his hazy memory of this week to hunt for a face to put behind the actions.

This last week he hadn't been in contact with many; chiefly his subordinates as he hadn't been in the mood to even _walk _let alone talk, but he had already made sure none of them were behind all of this. That left the other few which consisted of Armstrong, a couple of Maes' subordinates, Ed and Al and the essential military officers to discuss the murder case. He doubted any of these people would go out of their way to make him feel better – yes, they had offered their consolations but he just wasn't close enough to them for anything like _this _to happen.

He briefly considered Alphonse, but the whole set up of this didn't quite match his way of doing things. Al was kind and would probably offer more comfort than any of the others – it was just his nature – but he couldn't picture the young man working secretly and scrawling barely readable notes to be put with his food. The words on the note were too straightforward as well – it didn't seem to look like Al had written them.

But then who?

Nibbling absently on a biscuit, Roy read and reread the note but came up empty handed. Frustration bubbled inside him and provoked his patience, making it run precariously thin. The want to find out who this person was slowly but surely shifted to need and Roy felt himself feeling ready to put a difficult puzzle together. He hadn't felt so composed and confident in seemingly ages and some familiarity crept into his being and he felt a smirk threatening to appear.

It faltered though when he realised he had no means of gaining information anymore. Maes had always been his main informant and now that he was gone Roy was once again feeling lost and helpless. Basic questions that if left unanswered prevented Roy from even starting flew one by one in his head, words twisting with each other and forming new and more complicated ones.

He sighed; it'd probably have to wait until he returned to Headquarters. Then, he would be able to consider everyone he came in contact with. There was nothing else he could do at the moment. His mind wasn't working properly so no shrewd plans blossomed that would help him – he had to go about this the easy way.

Gulping down his juice, it came to his attention that he had actually managed to finish all of his lunch. A small, lopsided grin formed on his lips, and he tucked the small note safely in his pocket.

He needed to get back to Headquarters but he was in no mood, the giddy part of him wanting to spend the energy he had walking and thinking, not doing something as dull as signing. Flicking out his pocket watch he guessed he could spare a few more minutes and decided to cross the road to buy a newspaper.

The hot summer temperature was making him sweat under all the clothing, and with no conscious effort in particular he stripped his jacket and tucked it under his hand. His button up shirt was much more comfortable and allowed the breeze to cool his heating flesh.

He quickly paid for the newspaper and sauntered down the pavement, his thoughts drifting to various things. The considerate gesture of the secret person had lifted his spirits and he found the bland throbbing in his chest had almost subsided, leaving a faint whisper of pain in its wake. Despite the relieving alleviation of the pain, Roy felt guilty for having his grief for his best friend's death almost washed away, however temporarily, by such a simple act of kindness. It seemed meagre and unfair, as Maes' life certainly meant much more than that – but he had accused himself of selfishness before and now he let his tense muscles relax and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

He was so caught up in his reverie that he barely noticed when he bumped into someone. It threw him completely off balance but as he tried to right himself his ankle twisted painfully and he found he was bracing himself for the fall. He managed to fall neatly on his ass with a thump and reminded himself sternly that just because he had been bought lunch didn't mean this day wasn't still one of his unfortunate ones.

He grunted as his ankle throbbed painfully and groped for his jacket, which had fallen at his side. Paper hitting his head softly was what made him look up, only to see the newspaper in his face and a part of the hand holding it. Scowling faintly, he snatched it away and got up, composing himself immediately. He turned to glare at the person he had bumped into only to blink in stupefied surprise.

"Hey, Bastard," Ed greeted bluntly, arms crossed over her chest. She was for once in simple clothes that looked much more feminine that what she usually wore, even though they seemed to be unisex. Her hair was thrown over her shoulder carelessly and tied swiftly at the end, but a few blonde locks were too short to be kept and escaped, framing her face.

Her presence made Roy's chest fill with a strange warmth, though he was more than used to the fluttering of his heart every time he saw her by now. His mind raced with ideas and reasons of why she was here and what she had come to do, but realised with an internal slap that she probably hadn't come looking for him.

"Edeline," he acknowledged. Usually, he would call her by her state title, but they had made an agreement that whenever she was acting her gender he was never to call her anything but her name. Being the only one she trusted enough with the secret made him feel pathetically special, and he shoved the feeling down as it arose abruptly, smothering it to his best abilities. He was tired and bitter from losing Hughes and he felt the guilt settle in his gut every time such feelings bubbled to the surface. How could he possibly feel such happiness around someone when his best friend died a mere week ago?

A sigh jerked him out of his guilt trip and he looked back at Ed, her pretty face now marred by a heavy frown. His thoughts must've reflected on his face.

"You know, you look like shit," the blonde told him, but the unspoken concern lingered in her eyes as she tried to sound indifferent. Roy wanted to offer a smirk and brush off her observation with a teasing comment, but the smirk crashed and died and in its place rested a bitter grimace.

"You're so kind," he replied bluntly.

Ed rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh, before pinching the bridge of her nose. "I came to find you," she said, and Roy punched the surprised joy down to the pit of his stomach. "You're being such an ass, you know that? The crew has been worried sick about you."

Mustang looked down in shame as his heart contracted painfully and he became aware of how much he had actually failed everyone. He had been utterly oblivious to many things, and he had turned a blind eye to others too painful to deal with yet. His subordinates' concern being one of them. He had lived the past week thinking everyone's worry was misplaced and that he'd get back on his feet sooner or later. He had barely even grasped that one week had passed. It felt like he was stuck in the past, one week before – the day Maes was killed.

For a moment a compassionate and almost equally suffering look crossed Ed's features, but it was gone before he could process it further, replaced by faint annoyance and concern.

She turned around then, and beckoned him to follow. Roy pursed his lips. "I'm not going back to Headquarters yet," he told her, assuming that was where she wanted them to head. He remembered a second too late that Ed would never enter Headquarters dressed like that.

"I know," was the reply he received, and he frowned for it sounded much gentler than he had expected.

Nevertheless, he caught up to her and eased in a calm pace by her side. He tried as much as possible not to apply too much pressure on his injured foot and hoped Ed didn't notice his slight limp.

"You alright?" she asked almost cautiously and Roy wasn't sure what she was referring to. Had she noticed his strained walk or was she asking about him in general?

"I'm fine." He opted for saying what he would've for either one of the questions but it was evident she doubted his response. Her eyes flickered to him irritatingly and she scowled.

"Then why the fuck are you limping?"

He winced; so she had noticed. "It's nothing. I fell this morning that's all." Truth was the best he could go with right now, too emotionally tired to think up any half truths or lies altogether.

An honest answer seemed to have been the last thing Ed had expected and he watched as she frowned, the corners of her lips turning down a fraction in a mildly worried expression. "Fell?"

She motioned for him to take a turn left and he found they were back at the park. It was exactly like it always was, and again the familiarity was comforting. Roy felt is muscles relax once more – he hadn't even realised he had tensed them – and he felt more content.

"Down the stairs." The look she was giving him seemed completely enraged but Roy could discern the badly concealed alarm that swam in her eyes.

"How the _hell _did you manage that?" The grass stained their shoes as they sauntered away from the children and to a more secluded place. Roy realised she was trying her best to maintain a conversation and he briefly wondered why. She had always been so opposed to having any kind of interaction with him other than the mandatory office business they had to discuss.

Roy shrugged, kicking a stray stone out of the way. "Placed my foot in the wrong place, I guess. I don't really remember. I'd just woken up."

Saying it made him feel ridiculously pathetic. Edeline wasn't supposed to know all the stupid things he did while drunk or sleep deprived, she only needed to have his top-notch appearance in her mind whenever she thought of his name. A feeling of shame and embarrassment washed over him and he wondered what Ed thought of him now. She probably thought he was a pitiful git, drowning in his own shame and misery.

The blonde sat down on the bench in front of her and patted the space next to her patiently. Roy shuffled his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly before his aching ankle made its protests known. He winced and took a seat, biting his lip when he realised just how close he was exactly. It had been completely accidental but he had sat so close that their thighs and shoulders brushed against each other with every movement, however minor, and Roy shuffled uncomfortably, fighting back a healthy flush of embarrassment.

If Ed took notice she didn't comment on it. Crossing her legs and folding her arms, she leaned further in the bench in a futile attempt to get comfortable on the stiff wood. Several seconds ticked by in silence and Roy started wondering why she wanted them to come here.

"Enjoyed lunch?"

Lost in his thoughts once more, Roy was snapped out of them by her voice and he stared at her in confusion. She stared back unflinchingly, her face betraying nothing as she waited.

Why would Ed even care if he had enjoyed his lunch?

Frowning, he broke eye contact and slouched in the bench, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His right hand came in contact with something and his frown deepened and he looked down. The white crinkled paper stared back at him and his eyebrows rose as he realised where she was getting at. Bewildered, he gazed at her, wide-eyed.

"You're the one who did it?"

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly at him being obtuse and the smile she send his way made his heart involuntarily soar to the heavens.

"Took you long enough," she grouched playfully. Then, her shoulders slumped and the expression crumbled, giving Roy a glimpse of what was hiding underneath; pain, regret, concern and eternal sympathy. "You're losing your edge, Roy."

The casual use of his first name made his body react in ways it had never before. His heart leaped to his throat and his whole body was confused beyond belief, trapped between being painfully aware of the blatant disrespect towards a commanding officer and the unlawful way it hummed as the name rolled off her tongue and made his body heat up, desire pooling in his lower abdomen.

The dichotomy of his reactions made his cheeks flush in frustration and his eyes glassy. He blinked rapidly and turned away from the blonde, opting for glaring at his lap.

A hand touching his shoulder made him jerk away in surprise, but the hand persisted and he slowly loosened up.

"You're being too hard on yourself," came the soft yet rough reply, and his hands clenched into tight fists in his lap, knuckles turning white.

But he should be hard on himself, he thought. Because right now, while he should be mourning his best friend's death he was here with _her _and enjoying every second of it. He shouldn't be feeling what he was right now; he should be feeling guilt and regret, not blatant desire for her.

He shook his head, his thoughts far too complicated to be put into words. A soft sigh escaped the blonde and she shifted just a bit closer, whether unconsciously or not Roy couldn't know, but the sudden need to kiss her arose and he knew that, whatever Ed said, he should be feeling guilty.

"Have you been sleeping?"

At his mildly confused look, she added, "You've got black bags under your eyes. Your face is ridiculously pale as well."

He didn't know how to respond to that, as yet another fact about him revealed itself. He hadn't looked in the mirror for seemingly ages, too afraid of what might stare back at him, and his appearance to others had totally slipped his mind. Maybe that was why everyone was so concerned over his well-being. He probably looked like shit, like Ed had said.

He didn't sleep for more than two hours every night, his guilt not giving him a moment of solace as gruesome nightmares played like a record in his head, leaving him betrayed by his own subconscious. The only time he got to sleep was when he drowned glass after glass of scotch until he couldn't even remember his name anymore. But that had its consequences and in the morning his hangover was almost too much to bear. Besides, Maes had always been displeased by his habit to drown his problems in alcohol, and making his friend the reason to do so would only sadden him.

He had probably been silent for much longer than he thought, because Ed gave up on waiting for a response.

"Hughes wouldn't want you to do this to yourself, you know."

Pursing his lips, Roy's mind betrayed him as it admitted that was true. Maes was too kind, he would never want for Roy to drown in guilt for something he didn't do and had no way of knowing would happen. But if he found out about all these illicit feelings going on inside him right now?

"I should've known," he murmured. "I could've done something. Perhaps if I had answered the phone sooner–"

"There was nothing you could've done!" Ed hissed, but it lacked the usual bite and there was more than a trace of understanding coating the words.

Roy fell silent and Ed sighed, slumping further down in the bench. "I know how it feels alright?" She paused and Roy looked sideways at her curiously. Her face looked pained and anger lurked underneath those golden irises. "I'm probably the last person you want to hear this shit from, but I know how it feels to lose someone you care deeply for and feel totally useless afterwards." Her voice dropped as she lowered her head in shame, fringe obscuring her face from view. "That's why I wanted to transmute mum so bad. I had felt so lost and I kept thinking that I could've done something to save her when in reality there was nothing I could've done."

Roy closed his eyes and mulled over her words, realising that they made perfect sense. He understood how Ed must've felt back then completely, lost and helpless with a younger brother to raise, and the decision to try to bring her mother back had been an act of desperation.

A sad smile formed on his face as the knots in his chest began to unravel. How was it that she always made him feel better, merely with her presence and then with her words? Her fierce and strong character was always like a slap in the face whenever he began losing focus on his ambitions, reminding him harshly that he should not stray from his path no matter what. This time was no different, though she was doing it consciously, so the blow was somewhat cushioned by her sympathetic words; her being kind in her own way.

Taking a deep breath, Roy felt his mind clear up, the fog of grief, anger and guilt slowly fading. It would never leave completely and he'd probably need a very long time for things to go back to normal, but now at least he felt more optimistic, if only a little.

"Thank you."

The words slipped past his lips with ease, like it was natural, and Ed's splutter caused a genuine smile to form on his lips, and he gazed at her flushed face with unguarded adoration. The sun shone on her hair and made it seem ten times brighter, making Roy feel as if he was with the sun itself.

"B-Bastard, what the fuck are you thanking me for?" She flushed crimson as if her own words were embarrassing and crossed her arms petulantly.

Roy felt a deep chuckle bloom to the surface from deep within his chest, and if it was possible Ed became even redder.

"Stop laughing!" she yelled indignantly, making a smirk form on his face.

"The lunch was delicious by the way," he purred flirtatiously and laughed out right at Ed's horrified look. She glared at him, her cheeks tomato red, and couldn't help the fond smile. Reaching out, he tucked a few loose strands behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. Ed froze as soon as his skin touched hers and stared at him intently as he completed the action.

"Thank you for everything; the coffee, the lunch, being here..."

The desire dancing in her eyes was undeniable and Roy was sure he was no better. Letting his hand cup her cheek, he tilted her head slightly upwards and leaned in experimentally, letting out an internal sigh of relief when she didn't push him away.

Her breath was soft against his lips and Roy felt the pain wash away completely, replaced by a mix of love and lust as he gazed in her golden orbs. Ed's eyes trailed down his face and rested on his lips, before they fluttered back to his eyes. She leaned in just enough for their noses to touch, her expression one of unshielded fondness and affection. His heartbeat picked up and he felt his blood pulsing and running through his veins quicker, his fingers twitching to touch her.

Leaning in that last inch, he captured her lips in a gentle kiss, his own caressing and stroking hers with all the love he could possibly offer in such a small gesture. He ran his hands through her hair, his fingers lingering on the bare skin on her neck. His tongue flicked out and licked her bottom lip, and he earned an intoxicating hum before she opened her mouth. Her tongue stroked his slowly as her hands went to his shirt and pulled him closer, both relishing in the warmth of each other's body.

He had been waiting so long for this moment, he hadn't seemed to be aware all this time how much this person actually meant to him. Things were tricky right now and they might not be able to have each other as their top priority, but Roy was sure that once things settled down and Al was safely restored, he and Ed could see where this could lead. It was something worth trying out.

Resting a hand on the bench behind her for support, Roy leaned in to deepen the kiss, his other hand stroking her cheek tenderly. Ed hummed pleasantly, slender fingers stroking at his nape.

He had no idea how Maes would've reacted were he to find out about his ardent feelings towards his youngest subordinate, but he just knew that, as long as they were both happy, Maes would be content.

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><p><em>The End.<br>_


End file.
